


Half-Life 2: Opposite Reaction

by Liquid_Ink



Category: Half-Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2018-12-16 03:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11820162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liquid_Ink/pseuds/Liquid_Ink
Summary: The G-Man returns Adrian Shephard to Earth, in Combine City 31. The HECU survivors of Black Mesa have gathered here and formed their own resistance cell, but the G-Man's plans for Shephard are on a far greater scale than local insurgency.





	1. Occupational Hazard

‘ _So nice to have you with us, Mist-er Shepharrrd..._ ’

Adrian suddenly felt awake and aware, although there was nothing but void surrounding him. Last thing he remembered was being on the Osprey with… that man.

‘ _The need for dis-cretion is no longer relevant..._ _our_ _secret is out now..._ ’

That pallid face faded into focus out from the void.

‘ _You are no lllonger a dangerous wit-ness,_ _and your evaluation has reached a... positive conclusion._ ’

There were images. Flashing before Adrian’s eyes were images. Images of Black Mesa. Images of strange machines. All with that man’s face over them, still talking.

‘ _You are no longer to be kep-t where no harm can- come to you, Corporal. You are to be taken to a place where_ _greats deals of_ _harm can come_ from _you._ ’

The man, and the void, began to fade into conventional surroundings.

‘ _So... wake up,_ _Mister_ _Shep_ _h_ _ard. Wake up and... smell the ashes._ ’

 

The mysterious bureaucrat vanished with a leer, and Adrian's surroundings solidified themselves into the inside of an aircraft of some sort. It was not the Osprey which Adrian was last seated, but an aircraft of similar design.

‘When did you get on?’ asked a man next to him. Adrian was surrounded by people, dressed in a blue denim suit, resembling a prison uniform. Adrian noticed he was wearing one too.

‘I’m… not sure...’ said Adrian. The man looked at him, confused. ‘I mean, I don’t know how long its been.’

‘Yeah, we’ve been flying for hours.’

‘Silence,’ snapped a vocoded voice. Adrian realised that standing over them were figures in black combat vests and white gas masks. One stared down at him with its blank goggles.

The aircraft landed. The goons ordered everyone out. Adrian and the other prisoners shuffled along. They all looked at their dragging feet. Adrian looked everywhere else, taking in his surroundings. The goons noticed.

The aircraft did seem to be an Osprey Heliplane, but with an architecture as if it had been reimagined by something more technologically advanced than the Earth as Adrian had left it. How long had the bureaucrat kept him away? They had landed on a helipad, in a city somewhere in a desert. It didn’t seem like any New Mexico desert. The city seemed to be crumbling from lack of repair, but in places monolithic blue-grey metal patched it together.

There was a trilling sound. Adrian looked up, to see something floating above his head. It was some sort of floating camera. It flashed in Adrian’s eyes, blinding him. He continued to shuffle along with the other prisoners. As his vision cleared, Adrian could see a large screen displaying an older man with a black suit and dignified white hair. He spoke to them:

‘Welcome. Welcome to City 31. I am sorry to hear of the fate of your former settlement, but I am glad to greet you in the first step of your resettling. Civil Protection will process you and set you in the right path for your new life in the city kept secure by the sleepless efforts of Our Benefactors. So whether you intend to stay, or will eventually move on to parts unknown, welcome to City 31. It's safer here.’

 _A friendly face for the dictatorship_ , Adrian surmised as the goons filed everyone into fenced queues into the nearest building. The evacuees before him were being sorted by another goon ahead, most moving on ahead but a for being taken to another Osprey through a gate labelled “Burj Nova”. The man whom Adrian had spoken with on the plane was sent to the Osprey. When Adrian himself was to be sorted, the goon considered him much longer than any other, before allowing him to continue on.

 

A series of cameras and printers and scanners awaited Adrian throughout the building. He was given an identity card, assigned a residence and job, among many other pleasantries. He wondered how long that bureaucrat had him in storage. The technology was obviously somewhat futuristic. He also wasn't sure what country he was in. He seemed to be somewhere in the Middle East, but there was too much English-speaking for that.

After the delights of processing, the goons let Adrian out and instructed him to head over to his new residence and get some rest before reporting to his job. Adrian had mixed feelings on whether he should.  As he left the processing centre, he saw another vast building. Impossibly tall, and of the same monolithic metallic architecture holding the city together.  More telescreens litter ed the  city , and the old man was there again talking about the ocean levels  and something  about sharing .

He tried to get some answers from another newly processed man. The man shoved him away, and muttered: 'Word to the wise: keep it to yourself.' Nobody else was willing to talk with him either, and by the time he stopped trying, three of the floating cameras were following him.

He had been given sufficient maps to guide him to his residence. As he wandered down  the streets , the floating cameras went to  stalk other people.  Adrian eventually realised that he wasn't going to get a straight path, as the goons had numerous roads closed off with some sort of force field. Sometimes merely enormous metal barricades. The goons sometimes personally blocked off routes they were using for beatings.

 

Adrian's assigned residence was in a run down apartment building nearly identical to every other building around it. The glass on the front door was smashed, and an abandoned bicycle lay there. Adrian examined his ID card to determine exactly which  apartment he was in. He had to climb over piles of empty boxes to get up the stair s. This society needed to invest in better cleaners.

The apartment turned out to be a shared one, with three other weary looking citizens already living there. They welcomed him as best they could, and Adrian was about to introduce himself and try to get some answers when a cold feminine voice rang out:

‘ _Citizen notice, priority identification check in progress. Please, assemble in your designated inspection positions._ ’

His roommates immediately began scrambling for their identity cards, as the white-masked goons began knocking on doors. Adrian did the same; he didn't want to be purged within only an hour of his arrival. One of his roommat e s  opened the door to let the goons in. They inspected each and every card.  Adrian though t they were going to try and arrest him for some transgression, but it was in fact a red-headed man that they held issue with. The goon shouted in words unintelligible in his mechanical voice, and drew a handgun.

Whatever state that bureaucrat left Adrian in did not leave him rusty, and he showed the goon exactly how a US  marine was superior to a fascist policeman.  The goon was immediately disarmed and shot. A strangely satisfying tone came from its radio, followed by a more disturbing order for other units to investigate. Another goon dutifully came to do so, and met the same fate. The  targeted man took the other's gun, and told  Shephard to  follow him to the roof.

More goons tried to follow and were killed. Shephard believed that the bureaucrat had sent him here to end this dictatorship, and was perfectly willing to do so,  but he wanted answers .

‘ Hey, can we talk?’ he shouted to the red-headed man. ‘I don’t know what’s going on.’

‘What do you think is going on?’ the man snapped back.

‘Well, that’s open to interpretation,’ said Adrian, but the man wasn’t listening. He decided it was safer just to follow him now that he already killed some cops. Maybe he should have been more subtle.

They hastened to the roof through more decrepit stairs and ladders. The PA voice echoed out to them:

‘ _I_ _ndividual, you are charged with capital malcompliance. Anti-citizen status approved._ ’

They hurried over rooftops as the streets swarmed with the goons and their vehicles that looked like the black-metal spawn of cars and tanks. The sound of helicopters filled the air. Adrian looked back to see a _thing_ , like a helicopter rotor strapped into a whale. The thing flew over them briefly, with what seemed to be compound eyes staring at them.

'We need to get to the shore. There are resistance bases there,' said Adrian's companion.

Another, more conventional helicopter arrived. It followed the black-metal aesthetic and have a shark-ish kind of feel to it. There wasn't time to admire its looks for long. His companion dove through a window, and Adrian followed. They found themselves in some sort of factory, with many other citizens distracted from whatever work they were doing by the commotion. The mechanical voices rang out and told them to get on the floor, as more goons wandered in. A brief gunfight ensured, and the fugitives had to keep running. More scanners hovered over them. Adrian swiftly picked up a pipe wrench and smashed its eye out.

There was then a frantic run through the streets. Adrian assumed his companion knew where he was going and followed. The goons continued their pursuit, and some of their tank-cars had joined in. Adrian could smell the sea. They must have been getting close.

The sea was, to Adrian’s surprise, much lower than the city's architecture accounted for. The resistance bases were in storm drains a good distance away from the current shoreline. The pair ran down one, still pursued. Adrian continued to fire behind them at any goon that got too close.

There was now another noise, a high pitch whining. Adrian's resistance friend screamed “Manhacks” at things that began bursting through a smaller tunnel. They were small red-eyed flying rotorblades attempting to slam into Adrian and his companion. The pair fought them with the pipe wrench and some lump of metal the fugitive found lying about. The manhacks had a few chances to slice at their victims, but they managed to fight most them off. Unfortunately, the manhacks were mainly there as a distraction.

The goons were now right upon them, and gunfire killed Adrian's resistance friend. Adrian himself found cover and prepared to have a Bolivian army ending, when a rain of automatic fire tore the goons apart. As the delightful death tones wrung out, a man that seemed to be wearing a powered combat vest over the citizen uniform crawled from a pipe.

'Shephard, is that you? Hah! I knew we’d find you sticking it to the Combine somewhere.'


	2. Guerilla Warfare

Adrian recognised this man. Daniel Mertz, part of the Hazardous Environment Combat Unit. He looked considerably older. When they met, Daniel was barely older than Adrian. Now Daniel's hair was beginning to grey. Daniel seemed to notice this as well:

'Dear god, Shep, you haven't changed a bit. How do you do it?'

'I don't know, I fell asleep after Black Mesa and woke up a few hours ago.'

'What? Oh... I get you. Combine saw you as too much of a threat and put you to sleep or something?'

'I guess so. Suffice to say, I have no clue what's going on, or even what the Combine is.'

Daniel was confused for a moment, but quickly accepted his friend's dilemma and explained the important details of the past fifteen years. The Seven Hour War, Doctor Breen's surrender, the suppression field and the stripping of Earth's resources all explained. In a few years, a certain theoretical physicist in a similar situation to Adrian would wish he had it so neatly explained.

'...so groups of resistance now exist outside the cities, fighting a guerrilla war. Most of the resistance around here is lead by old HECU, and we know for a fact that the Black Mesa scientists are the leaders of the Sector 17 resistance. I’m not sure if that’s how it works worldwide, but I know the resistance tries to get people who already know each other together.'

'I understand, I think. So where is our resistance base?'

'Oh, out in the desert. The resistance presence in the city is here to help refugees escape, and also to steal water and ship it across to all our stations. Water is hard to come by in this place, and the Combine is the only thing capable of supplying it. But enough chit-chat, let me take you to my own humble station.'

Daniel led Adrian through one of the large drainage pipes, which lead to a surprisingly spacious room filled with more rebels, wearing gear stolen from the metrocops worn over their citizen uniforms. A pair of Vortigaunts were among them.

'This is the Shephard,' said one of them. 'A web of intrigue awaits us.'

'What are _they_ doing hear?' asked Adrian. Daniel's explanation left out the Vortigaunts.

'Oh, the Vorts? Well they weren't exactly invading us willingly at Black Mesa. From what they tell us, Gordon Freeman apparently killed their master and freed them.'

'What happened to those bigger uglier Vorts?' Adrian continued a search for answers. One of the Vortigaunts gave a satisfactory answer:

'Without the Nihilanth, his army lies scattered around Xen defending the borders of a hollow empire. Now that the factories lie unmanned, we suspect they will eventually die out.' The Vortigaunt was very polite. Adrian nodded.

'I suggested to the resistance leaders using Black Mesa technology to go back to Xen,' said Daniel. 'I thought we should try and recruit the Xenian Grunts to our cause, but nobody would listen.'

'A clever plan, but filled with too many uncertainties,' said a Vortigaunt.

Adrian continued to converse to the Vortigaunts, trying and failing to get an explanation for Race-X. These Vorts did not encounter them, and did not have any foreknowledge of them. Adrian thanked them anyway.

Daniel meanwhile was digging something out of a crate. It was a Powered Combat Vest, with which HECU were equipped with for the operation at Black Mesa. This one had camo more appropriate for a desert, though.

'The world is as dangerous as ever, Shep. You won’t last long without one of these.'

‘Thanks. You managed to keep some after being deported across the world?’

‘Oh, not really. We just managed to smuggle the design here. We build them out of modified Combine tech. Get it on and I’ll go tell Fox Base about you.’

Adrian fumbled about to get the PVC on. It wasn’t exactly tailored to his size, but he was eager to get it on. He had grown attached to his powered armour as it kept him safe in Black Mesa, and he couldn’t wait to feel its high impact reactive warmth. It even had the gas mask!

Daniel was on the radio, excitedly telling all about Shephard’s arrival. The person on the other end, whom Adrian recognised as Colonel Robins, sounded quite interested at the prospect. Adrian couldn’t quite hear what Robins was telling Daniel, but the voice had the distinct tones of a plan about to be hatched. Daniel acknowledge whatever had been said, and ended the transmission. He turned to Adrian.

‘The Colonel is pleased to have you back with us, Shep. He’s got some sort of plan going, and needs the pair of us back at Fox Base. We better get going.’

‘Did he say what for?’

‘Nah. He doesn’t often inform me of his plans. In case I get captured by Civil Protection or something. Get yourself a gun and we’ll get going.’

Adrian picked up a submachine gun from amongst the station’s stash of crates. He took some spare ammunition, though Daniel assured him ammo would be plentiful if Civil Protection began chasing them. A closer look at the gun revealed to Shephard that it was indeed of Combine manufacture.

The rebels in the station were dismayed at Daniel leaving them; they felt unsafe without a trained marine looking after them. Daniel assured them that they were skilled enough to run the station on their own, and that the Vortigaunts were just as capable as him of taking care of them. The Vortigaunts aimed their farewells at Adrian, and wished him a foreboding good luck at “his coming struggle”. Daniel gave them all a wave, before leading Adrian to the very back of the station. There they crawled through a man-sized pipe, which Daniel informed Adrian was the best way to move through the city undetected.


	3. Tunnel King

The pair crawled through the tunnel for what must have been fifty feet. The tube exited in another large chamber.

‘Are these basements?’ asked Adrian. ‘I don’t understand why it would be so roomy in a sewer.’

‘I think they’re storm drains. Which just raises the question of why a city in a desert needs such massive storm drains,’ said Daniel.

‘Did the Combine build them?’

‘No. The Combine only ever builds their big ugly space metal boxes. They’ll occasionally let citizens undertake their own projects. But there’s no way they’d let them build these tunnels.’

The pair continued walking down. There was no light, but their PVCs were fitted with night-vision goggles. Adrian disliked the night-vision, as it would more often than not end up blinded by it, but in the pitch black of these tunnels it was working perfectly. He could see everything clearly. There were walls and a floor, and nothing more.

‘It’s quiet. Too quiet,’ said Adrian.

‘Are you trying to jinx it?’ said Daniel.

‘Just saying. It’s rather unnerving.’

‘There’s a couple of yards of concrete separating us from the surface. There’s no traffic since the Combine took over, and Combine APCs and Synths aren’t everywhere. So we don’t hear anything.’

‘What’s a synth?’

‘Not-quite robot, not-quite animal. You’ll find out soon enough.’

‘Not exactly a comprehensive briefing.’

The night-vision began burning Adrian’s eyes. He switched it off, and saw they were coming towards some light. It was daylight; they were heading outside.

‘Alright, this part is tricky,’ said Daniel. ‘We’re going to have to run a good hundred feet through a canal to the next tunnel. It’s usually not a fuss, but it’s daylight, Civil Protection is on alert, and we’re clearly armed rebels.’

The pair readied themselves just out of the light. With a signalling slap, the pair sprinted through the dry bed of the canal. It was a good twenty feet wide and surrounded by concrete walls half as high, so anyone could peer in and see them. Adrian could see the drain they were heading for. It was only half their height; they’d have to either dive or crouch into it. A vocoded voice shouted, and there was gunfire tailing them. Daniel dove in. Adrian dove after him.

‘Shit, they saw us. They’ll follow us through here. Shit. They might find the next station. We’ll have to take the long way. Quickly, they’re coming.’

‘Shouldn’t we fight? We could take down the squad, and continued unfollowed.’

‘No, the next squad will explore and find the next station.’

The pair hurried down a manhole to the side. Daniel made sure the metrocops saw him.

‘We’ll lead them astray. They’ll probably flood the underground with manhacks though. Shit.’

‘You didn’t seem this concerned for the first station.’

‘They have an emplacement gun and two Vorts, they’ll be fine. The others aren’t so fortified.’

They continued down the pipes, with the metrocops following. Daniel was always sure to let them see where he went. This continued for two more tunnels, getting deeper and deeper underground. The CPs’ vocoded voices echoed through the underground. They reported their position to some superior, to which Daniel and Shephard turned around and aimed their SMGs. Four CPs marched in, and were all killed.

No more came, so they continued on. There was finally some water in the waterworks; the floor was flooded up to their ankles. They continued on. A few rats scurried around the ground, until one was snared in some long tongue.

‘Oh, watch out for the barnacles.’

Adrian looked up, and saw the maw of those creatures that infested Black Mesa.

‘Oh dear. These things?’

‘Yeah. The alien invasion back at Black Mesa, the Vortigaunt one, was beaten, but wildlife kept coming through. These things infest just about everywhere they’re allowed to grow. Avoid them if you can. Don’t waste ammo unless it’s necessary.’

‘I don’t suppose you can detach them from the ceiling. As in, alive?’

‘Uh, no? Why?’

‘No reason at all.’

They continued through the underground, coming across abandoned subway lines. Barnacles were everywhere, keeping the rat population under control. Daniel got caught in one, and Adrian had to kill it. Adrian felt sorry for the barnacles. He didn’t feel this way to any other alien had fought. There was just something about barnacles, perhaps their passive nature, that made them seem innocent.

Daniel had to keep checking a map he had installed in his HUD. Adrian didn’t have one, or didn’t know how to access it, which would prove inconvenient should Daniel die. As Daniel figured out where to go, there was a whining noise echoing through the tunnels. Adrian could see red lights in the distance. It took too long to figure that they were manhacks.

The hacks flooded the room. The pair fled them, not wanted to use up SMG ammo on tiny little targets. As they ran down tunnels, Adrian noticed an old tool box. He picked up a rusted old pipe wrench, and beat the hacks out of the air. Daniel complimented the action, but was cut short by a squad a CPs. A brief firefight ensured, until the metrocops were all dead.

‘They’re not exactly efficient are they?’ said Adrian.

‘They’re cops, not soldiers. The Combine doesn’t train them much in case they rebel.’

The pair took the extra ammunition, including a grenade for the launcher, and continued moving, for another hour without a peep from Civil Protection. It was fairly eerie. Daniel expressed concern that the Combine was culling all the stations above them. Adrian had little to say to this, but encouraged Daniel to talk about it until he reassured himself that the dismantlement and evacuation contingencies were enough to keep everyone safe.

They continued upwards, back to the surface, but still moving along, so their ascent was in a sort of diagonal direction. The extensiveness of the underground still confused Adrian, though Daniel had no answers and had never really considered it. They eventually moved into the basement of a large building Daniel said was at the border of the city. They crept through, heading for another tunnel that would take them out into the wasteland. Daniel suddenly went still. He pointed to a hole through which he could see a lower level. Adrian peered through, and saw several metrocops, with red highlights to their body armour and more skull-like masks, like Darth Vader or something.

‘Elite Metrocops. Better trained and better armed. Used in heavy raids. Much more dangerous if they catch us.’

‘How far until the next tunnel?’

‘Downstairs, three rooms across.’

‘Our PVCs are charged, let’s make a run for it. Take them by surprise.’

‘Alright.’

The Marines peered at the metrocops, waiting for the right moment. When they came, they plunged several bullets into each cop’s skull. Daniel quickly burst through doors, with Adrian covering. Three more elites were waiting for them, but were surprised and taken down quickly. Several more began pursuing, keeping just out of Adrian’s fire.

Daniel found the tunnel, and they went through. Adrian fired his SMG grenade into the basement’s ceiling, bringing it down onto the CPs.

‘We should be safe for now. Follow this tunnel for a while, then briefly through an old town, through an old mine, and we’re there.’


End file.
